I was pretty much a lazy bum all day yesterday. Couldn’t rouse myself to do any of the thousand things I need to be doing to get ready for Sweet Pea. In the early evening I took some trash over to my parents’ dumpster and was going to hit the bike trail so the day wouldn’t be a complete waste, physically speaking. Dad was sitting on the back porch steps and I joined him for a while. It is remarkable that the moment harvest is over, Dad is himself again. All the boys are immediately more relaxed and not on edge or impatient at all, as they can be during the high pressure time of harvest. I think this is the first time we’ve chatted like that for weeks. Dusk approached and it was too late to walk on the bike trail. Dad asked me to run to the store and pick up a few things for tacos while he got the meat ready. We had a nice visit while we ate supper together. Mom had been working at E’s new house and joined us toward the end.
Unfortunately, the tacos didn’t agree with me. It was really weird. My dog, Clara, was laying on her blanket, minding her own business but I could smell the last thing she’d eaten when I walked past her. Something with garlic. As I went close to her to give a good night rub, the smell overcame me and I had to run to the bathroom and throw up. Who gets nauseous in the second trimester? That would be me.
Dad and I went to church this morning and I was a little nervous about telling people there that I was expecting. This is a very small, conservative, country church and people there can be very judgemental. I want to be clear that I don’t care what anyone thinks about my life decisions and that I’m not one bit ashamed about anything I’ve done. I get nervous about how to react to someone being judgy, though. I don’t ever want my kid to think that I’m embarrassed about how I came to be a mother and I want to show that in my reactions starting now. It’s a difficult line to walk, though. You can’t just tell someone at church that you’ve known your whole life to go jump in a lake if they pass judgement. Grace and dignity are called for. Anyway, all that to say, there really was no problem. Everyone seemed really happy for me and no one asked about the father.
I told the preacher as I was shaking hands with him on the way out.
Me: I wanted you to know I’m expecting.
Preach: (grabbing my hand with both his)
You’re kidding me!
Me: No, I’m very serious!
Preach: Congratulations! Give me a call very soon.
It doesn’t read that way, but he was really goofy about it. What could he want to talk to me about at this point? I hope it’s as simple as talking about baptism which seems way in the future but it might be talking to me about being unmarried and sin.
There are some things I really can’t stand about my church. But it’s hard to contemplate finding a new church home when I’ve gone there my entire life. And it goes even deeper, this church was founded by my great grandparents who held the first services in their home, which is now my parents’ home. I consider everyone there family.
We picked up Mom and met E, C and Dollface for breakfast. Stretch had spent the night with a friend. We have the tradition of celebrating the end of harvest by going out to eat usually for supper but this year it worked out as breakfast. As a child, this would be one of the two or three times per year that our family would eat at a restaurant. We looked forward to it every year. Still do.
E and C were planning a big painting day at their new house so I brought Dollface home with me. We decorated Halloween cookies. They each have about an inch of frosting and layers of candy. Fun to decorate, not sure about actually eating them. Afterwards, we walked over to the farm and played with the kittens, rode tractor with Paw Paw to feed cows(her not me), helped gather pecans and persimmons.
Someone at church had mentioned finding spoons in all the persimmons this year. If you cut the seed open, lengthwise, you’ll find the shape of a spoon, a fork or a knife in the middle of the seed. A spoon means you’ll need a shovel all winter because there will be lots of snow. A knife means the winter’s cold winds will cut like a knife. A fork means a winter of mild weather. Our persimmons all had spoons too. Not sure if the old tales are true but it’s kind of amusing to play around with. I warned DollFace NOT to eat the persimmons off the tree. Only the ones on the ground that look sort of squishy are good to eat. Just like we all did at her age, she just HAD to try one off the tree. Funny sour face! I will always remember my first (and only) taste of unripe persimmon. Ugghh!
Now kicking back and finishing season 2 of Lost.